“Brig, what are we—”
I slam the door behind me and spin on her. Her eyes widen as I approach. When I reach her, I take her hand in mine and I say, “I’m out of my goddamn mind right now. I don’t know if I should fuck you against the wall or punish you for holding out on me.” Letting go of her, I push my hands through my hair. “Christ.”
I turn away and try to gain control of my emotions, but it’s damn near impossible with the taste of her still on my tongue and the smell of her wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this, so out of control.
Why didn’t I see it? For so long she was Ruth from Snow Roast, the girl who knew my coffee order before I even opened my mouth. And then out of nowhere, she jumps into my life with both feet, confusing me, twisting me into a ball of knots, and leaving me a panting, needy mess.
The rehearsal dinner was a goddamn nightmare to navigate. I found myself staring at Ruth every chance I got. Watching her every move, the way she fidgeted with her hands, how she licked her lips with a small pass of her tongue, or the way she glanced in my direction, her thick lashes fanning over her mysteriously dark eyes.
Eve caught on, and whenever someone asked why I was staring at Ruth, I told them because she’s been crushing on me for years. And then I asked if they knew. Of course . . . everyone did. Even my mother.
Not me though.
Nope, I was the fool who didn’t know.
And fuck, I don’t know how to feel about it. All I know is I got a taste of her and I need more. I need so much more.
I’m about to turn around when her arms wrap around me. Her front to my back. Her lips press a kiss to my back as she pulls my shirt from my pants and then slowly unbuttons my dress shirt.
I stand there, unmoving, my breath hitching with every pass of her fingers.
They tremble.
Her body lightly shakes against mine.
And I hear the sound of her teeth chattering behind me.
She’s nervous, but the only reason I don’t stop her is because of the way she’s lovingly kissing me down my back. And when my shirt is peeled off my skin and dropped to the floor, her lips find my heated, tense back.
Like reading braille, her fingers study every contour of my front, running over my abs, moving up to my pecs where she glides the tips of her fingers over my trimmed chest hair. Her thumbs run over my nipples, causing them to peak against the cool night air, only for her hands to drop down over my abs again, to my dress pants.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t hesitate. She releases my belt and then unbuttons my pants. My erection presses against the zipper. Her fingertips graze my hardened length, and I suck in a sharp breath when she unzips my pants, releasing some of the hold on my cock. My pants fall to the ground and she lightly pushes my back so I lean forward. I brace myself against the wall in front of me as I feel her bend down to help me from my shoes, socks, and pants. Her hands run up my bare legs to the waistband of my black boxer briefs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her fingers toying with the elastic, slipping in and out. “I’m sorry I didn’t have enough courage to tell you.”
Christ, when she says it like that . . .
“Ruth—”
“Shh,” she says just as her hand slips into my boxer briefs, gripping my cock.
“Holy . . . fuck,” I say, leaning forward, my head falling to my forearm.
In a smooth motion, she pushes my boxer briefs down my legs and I step out of them, leaving me completely naked and exposed for her eyes. Her fingers trail up the backs of my thighs, over the globe of my ass, and her warm breath tickles my shoulder blades, her hand still clutching the base of my cock.
God. This is what I’ve been denied. My Ruthie’s touch.
“It wasn’t love at first sight for me,” she says quietly and I still, holding my breath so I can try to hear her better over the pounding of my heart. She strokes her hand up and rubs her palm over the tip of my cock. “It was gradual. It was a hello, Ruthie here and there. It was the hug you gave me when you found out my parents passed. It was the teasing, the smiles you gave me in the mornings, the winks directed toward me every time you wanted me to play along while you joked with your brothers. It was the little things, Brig.”
Her hand travels down again, to the base. She kicks my legs apart, reaches between them and carefully cups my balls.
A hiss escapes past my lips. Never in my life have I been in this position, grabbed in all the best ways, but from behind, while she confesses her feelings for me. Is it so she doesn’t have to look me in the eyes? Is it easier for her this way?
My guess is yes.
She rolls my balls in her hand while she squeezes my base, tighter and tighter, pushing the blood to the tip. Short jolts of her hand help move that blood faster, causing a dull throb to travel up my cock.
“Christ,” I breathe out heavily, unable to stop myself.
“Those little things,” she says continuing the evil but fantastic torture. “They joined into one. Edges sewed together, moments collided into one infatuation, putting me at the tail end of yearning and wanting from a distance.”
She releases the base of my cock, causing it to jolt as blood rushes through. The feeling is . . . exquisite, especially when she circles underneath the head with her forefinger and thumb, twisting back and forth, hitting that sensitive spot that never feels the same when I do it myself. I feel my cock grow in her hand, tighten, thrust forward.
Jesus Christ, I’m going to come faster than I want.
Her hands release me and grip my hips. Shaking, she turns me around so I can finally look at her. Her face reads nervous—scared—as she takes one step back, her eyes falling to my length, then she sensually rolls her teeth over the corner of her bottom lip. I’m about to pounce when she reaches behind herself and undoes her dress.
The straps loosen.
The torso slackens.
And then she lets it fall to the floor, exposing her completely.
No bra.
No underwear—stole those.
Just Ruth, in heels, bare and beautiful standing before me.
And fuck, is she gorgeous.
I drag my hand over my mouth, taking her all in, marveling at her breasts, how they have weight to them but aren’t too big. And her dusty-rose nipples peaked and needy. My mouth needs them.
She takes a step forward and presses her hand to my chest. I grip her hips but before I can hold on, she dips and kneels in front of me.
Oh fuck.
Her hands smooth up and down my thighs. My cock bobs in front of her face. Just when I think I can’t take any more, she opens her mouth and takes me in.
Warm heat envelops my erection, pulling me all the way to the back of her throat where she swallows.
“Fu-fuck,” I say, my hand going to her hair. “Fuck, Ruthie.”
She doesn’t let up, despite the feral sounds passing my lips. She bobs up and down, pulling me in so deep my vision starts to blacken. She’s ravenous, hell-bent on making me come in her mouth.
The sensation of her tongue dragging along the sensitive vein on my cock, how she swallows when my tip is buried in her throat, the way her thumbs rub along the root . . . motherfucker.
I grip her hair, trying to be gentle, but holy shit, my body is spasming, my legs are wobbling, my—
Her mouth pops off and my engorged cock thrusts between us as she stands.
“Ruthie,” I say on a gasp. “What—”
She takes my hand and walks me through my apartment to my bed in the corner of the large loft-like space. Stepping out of her heels, she climbs onto the bed and pulls me down with her. She pushes me down on my back and whispers, “I want to feel all of you, Brig. When you come for the first time with me, I want it to be inside me.”
Jesus Christ.
She strokes my cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was . . . nervous.”
“Stop apologizing,” I growl, pushing her onto her back and mov
ing over her, taking charge.
“But you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” I say, my turn to explore her body. “I’m frustrated.” I glide my hand over her breast and marvel in the way it fits my palm perfectly. “Frustrated that we could have been doing this a long time ago.”
My cock lies heavily on her thigh as I bring my mouth to her breast, sucking in her nipple.
Beneath me, I feel her legs fall open, parting for me. The tip of my cock grazes her wet heat.
“How turned on are you, Ruthie?”
“I stopped sucking you because I thought I was going to come with you in my mouth.”
Jesus, fuck.
I pause, lift my head, and look at her in awe. Her hand caresses my face, her thumbs stroking my cheek. “These eyes,” she whispers. “They destroy me.”
And just like that, I lose track of everything else around and fall into this moment with the beautiful girl before me.
Lowering again, I glide my tongue over her breasts as her fingers sift through my hair, pulling when I tug on her nipples, smoothing when I lap my tongue around her breasts. We work in harmony as we succumb to each other’s touch.
My hands are frantic.
My mouth can’t get enough.
My breath can’t keep up with my pulse.
Passion consumes me, swallows me whole, and takes me into another world where only Ruth and I exist.
She writhes beneath me.
She gasps when I nip at her breasts.
She moans when my mouth finds hers again.
We’re tangled together, limbs locking each other down. With every shift of her body, my eager cock slides across her slit, her leg, her smooth skin. It doesn’t help calm me down, but revs up my senses, spurring me on, needy for more.
“I need you inside me,” she says, her hand snaking between us and gripping my length. She positions me at her entrance and I stop her.
“Fuck, I don’t have condoms,” I say, realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.
“Birth control,” she says, moving me to her center. “Neither of us has had sex in a while. We’re good.” And then she slips me inside her, and her tight, warm heat pulls me in.
Holy fucking motherfucker.
“Shit, you feel amazing,” I say, straddling her body and getting in position as I slowly slide myself inside.
“Brig,” she says on a gasp when I slip all the way inside her. Our eyes meet and the shock that was once in them slowly dissipates . . . and is replaced by satisfaction.
“You okay?” I ask, feeling how tight she is around me. Like a goddamn vise.
“Perfect,” she all but whispers, as her hand moves to my face and she brings my mouth to hers.
And we kiss.
We kiss for a long fucking time. It’s slow, rhythmic. There’s no rush about what we want, what we need to feel sated. We’re in the moment. We’re exploring. My hands on her breasts, moving over her nipples. Her fingers digging into my scalp, driving down my back, over my ass.
Our tongues dance, tangle, never let up, as my hips start a slow rocking motion, in and out of her. She’s so fucking tight, it almost feels like I can’t breathe as I slide in and out.
“Fuck . . . Ruth. This feels too good.”
She spasms around me, clenching my dick. “Oh God, Brig. I’m not going to last.”
Me neither.
It’s embarrassing how quick I’m going to pull the trigger, especially if she keeps spasming around my cock like that.
“Kiss me,” she says, pulling on my head again. “Just kiss me, Brig.”
Taking one of her legs, I drape it over my shoulder, opening her up even wider. Then I lean down on one elbow, bringing my mouth to hers where our lips fuse together . . . and I pump. I pump hard and fast, but our mouths never break apart. She holds me tight to her, and even when she lets out a series of moans, I catch each one in my mouth. When she bites on my lower lip, I grunt against her. When our tongues dance and twist together, I get caught up in the euphoria pumping through my veins.
Intensifying.
Pleasure rips through me. Her moans turn into cries. Her cries turn into gasps. Her gasps become inaudible, as her pussy clenches around my cock and her orgasm pierces through her.
“Brig, yes,” she calls out, riding me hard, pumping her hips.
Shit, it’s too much.
Her sounds. Her sweet scent. The narrow confines of her pussy.
Pleasure builds at the base of my spine. My balls tense, drawing up. My cock swells.
And . . .
“Ah, fuck,” I call out as I come inside her, my hips stilling, my body numbing, my vision blurring.
Spurt after spurt jolts through my cock as we both ride out our orgasms until there’s nothing left.
I collapse on top of her, my face buried against her neck where I press light kisses along her heated skin. Her fingers dance across my back, soothing me after the jolt of pleasure I experienced.
Once I regain my breath, I lift up to look her in the eyes and when I do, I see tears spill over the sides.
“I’m—”
“Don’t apologize,” I say softly this time, kissing away the tears.
I smooth my thumb over her cheek and say, “Spend the night with me?”
She nods, unable to say anything. I press a light kiss across her lips, hop off the bed, and grab a wet washcloth to quickly clean us both up. When I’m done, I hop back in bed, but pull us under the covers, and bring her close to my chest where she rests her head. She’s shaking in my arms; soft whimpers fall from her lips.
“Ruthie Girl, talk to me.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to cry.” She takes in a deep breath. “I just . . . that was . . .”
“Special.” I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look me in the eyes. “That was special for me.”
“It . . . it was?”
I nod. “It was.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Get some sleep, Ruthie. I plan on doing that a few more times tonight.”
I kiss her one more time and then hold her tight, my mind a clusterfuck of emotions as I try to navigate what the hell just happened—how right it felt—and what I’m going to do about it.
Chapter Sixteen
BRIG
Brig: Is anyone awake? Please tell me someone’s awake. I need to talk. Anyone, is anyone awake? *pray hands*
Griffin: What could be so important at six in the morning, Brig?
Brig: You’re up!
Griffin: Ren has horrible morning sickness, so we’ve been up for half an hour.
Reid: I’m up. Eve snuck over this morning from Harper and Rogan’s house. Met me under the deck of Mom and Dad’s. We boned.
Rogan: I’m up, not because it’s my wedding day, but because I thought I heard a bird getting attacked by a lobster under Mom and Dad’s deck, but now know it was just my brother fucking his girlfriend.
Reid: *Shrugs* what can I say? She really likes my dick.
Brig: Uh, can we please bring it back to me?
Rogan: Oh yes, forgot. Even though I’m getting married today, we have to focus on Brig.
Brig: Glad you see it that way.
Griffin: Does this have anything to do with Ruth?
Reid: Ten bucks says they did it last night and he’s freaking out.
Rogan: Easily.
Griffin: Ren called it last night.
Brig: Aren’t you all a fucking treat?
Griffin: Well, is it true?
Brig: Yes.
Reid: Fucking finally. Christ.
Rogan: Best wedding gift you could give me. About time you two hooked up.
Griffin: I think the entire town will be grateful for relieving them of the blue balls they’ve been suffering while watching you and Ruth together.
Brig: When you’re done, I need to talk.
Reid: What’s there to talk about?
Brig: What do I do?
Griffin: Uh, offer her breakfast, ask her if she’ll save a dance for you at t
he wedding. Pretty simple, bro.
Rogan: The dance thing is a good idea.
Reid: She’ll like the dance thing.
Brig: Is that blowing her off?
Griffin: No.
Rogan: Stop overthinking it.
Reid: Grow a pair and take charge.
Brig: This isn’t helpful.
Griffin: How is it not helpful? We’re telling you what to do.
Brig: By using catch phrases. I need solid advice.
Rogan: Two in the bottle, one in the hole.
Reid: Eggs and baskets, don’t put them all in one fridge.
Griffin: Straight from the lobster’s mouth.
Jen: Don’t throw the condom out with the bath water.
Brig: WHY? WHY DO I TEXT YOU MORONS?
* * *
“Good morning,” Ruth’s voice comes up behind me as I’m in the middle of making pancakes.
I turn to find her wearing my dress shirt from last night with one button pulling it together in the middle. Her skin is glowing, her hair is rumpled, and even though she’s covered up, my shirt is so big on her it flaps open in the middle, flashing me her gorgeous tits.
I grow hard in seconds.
“Good morning,” I say on a gulp, taking her all in. She walks up to me tentatively and places her hand on my bare chest only to reach up and place a kiss on my jaw. When she starts to pull away, I snag her around the waist and dip my head toward hers, pushing her lips against mine.
She tastes like mint. She must have brushed her teeth before coming out to the kitchen.
Her body is soft and warm, and she smells like me, like my cologne.
Last night, Christ. We had sex two more times. Once with her riding on top of me, her tits bouncing right above my face, her pussy clenching so damn hard on my cock that I came faster than I care to admit. After that, we were slow, took our time. I explored her body with my mouth, dragging out her orgasm until we both passed out.
And even though I had her three times last night, seeing her right now, in my shirt, freshly fucked, I want her again.
I want her badly.
When she pulls away, I keep my arm around her and remove the pancakes from the griddle, turn it off and face her, while leaning against the counter.
That Swoony Feeling Page 22
